


Second Best

by redpenfics



Category: Bon Jovi (Band)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:33:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21987463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redpenfics/pseuds/redpenfics
Summary: Looking at the starry sky and realizing what makes your life complete. Or not.
Relationships: Jon Bon Jovi/Richie Sambora
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	Second Best

**Author's Note:**

> An old fic of mine. I decided to give it a go. Hope you'll enjoy.

It was late, probably around 2 or 3 am, way past time for the old folks to be in bed. He actually chuckled at the thought. He didn’t feel that old. Tired yes, but not old. And yet there he was, sitting alone in his bedroom in the dead of night. If it weren’t for the soft sound of the leaves whistling through the trees, it would probably be eerily quiet, but he didn’t mind. In fact, such crazy hours were a perfect setting for getting his creative juices flowing. The train of thought, the coming and going of ideas from his brain, down to his pencil, onto the paper, into his eyes, and back into his brain again. A continuous exchange between his body and soul.

  
Tonight he wasn’t in the mood for writing, though. All he wanted was to absorb the tranquillity of the place and find his peace amid the chaos that his life was these days. People he loved were dying, leaving, changing so much they became strangers; bad stuff piling up so fast he didn’t have enough time to process anything. There was no time to be mad or sad because there was another obligation to fulfil; he was already on the go and a trusted bottle of ‘instant forget’ mixed with ‘happy pills’ were ready to numb him senseless every other night. But it couldn’t work forever, right?

  
Not all mistakes hurt the same. Some of them are the best of teachers. He knew he made some bad ones when he could no longer pretend the effects could be reversed, when pleading and making another idle promise hardly worked anymore. And then he discovered that hitting the bottom was the best thing that could happen to him. Sobriety was like waking up from a deep slumber, and seeing the world with eyes wide open for the first time in years. It was exhilarating to be in complete command of himself and it showed on the outside; he just never felt better. What was new and unsettling were the questions and the doubts that kept coming like a flood he couldn’t tame; sort of like those colour-blind people who put their Enchroma glasses on and see there’s more to life than a few dull shades of yellow and blue.

  
It was the last night before they were supposed to go back to California from their short vacation, Ava was sleeping in the other room. Despite all that turmoil at home, she was sleeping peacefully, with a faint smile on her lips. She felt safe, he knew. Their Hawaiian home, where they would usually stay at on their holiday trips, was her haven – she couldn’t wait till they got there since he collected her from her grandparents’ place. Heather was drinking again, being in such a fragile mental state the whole family was begging her to go to rehab for her own good. She didn’t think it was necessary, she’d been in and out of rehab many times and she felt better, then why all the fuss? This time, however, nobody could trust her due to her erratic behaviour and failed promises. He knew it well. He’d been there before.

  
He smiled at Ava, even though she couldn’t see it. His beloved daughter with a face of an angel that once belonged to his wife and who was now giving him hell. No, she was giving them all hell. Prescription drugs and alcohol? Another relationship full of dramatic break-ups and make-ups? When they met she was different. She was wild but she wasn’t crazy.

  
And now, thinking of his girl, with her golden hair creating some heavenly halo around her face, he felt a stabbing pain in his chest. He knew he would leave her again to get on the road and entertain thousands of fans for the next several months. Not necessarily strangers but were those people more important than his only child, his precious girl, when she really needed him?

  
Anger and some weird reluctance were simmering just under his skin but strong enough to set his blood on fire. Clenching his jaws subconsciously, he took his mind off his family situation and looked ahead, letting his eyes wander back to the window till he noticed how fiercely the curtains were blowing in the wind. He got up to close it but stopped to gaze at the full moon in the sky. He found it especially alluring, shining so brightly he couldn’t believe it was just reflected light. It was also bigger than usual, or so it seemed. Its grey stains were rough and uneven, with small darker spots in places.

  
Funny thing, he wasn’t a particularly diligent student and hated learning stuff by heart; yet somehow he always had an interest in astronomy and actually paid attention in class when they would explain how stars were born or that those dark spots were craters formed due to collisions from other celestial bodies, large holes that were like wounds from all the punches. The sky was full of stars probably making up some constellations he couldn’t remember if he tried. Was that the Big Dipper or the little one?

  
The starry night reminded him of thousand dancing fireflies above this paradise island, like something out of a dream. While he was standing there, enchanted with that weirdly beautiful moment, he saw a shooting star streak across the sky and closed his eyes to make a wish. He frowned, trying to get the idea clear in his mind but it went completely blank out of a sudden.

  
_Who fucking cares? It ain't gonna change shit,_ he muttered to himself angrily, wondering why he was even thinking about such stupid things. He wasn’t a kid any more.

  
Maybe because he needed that distraction from the empty feeling that enveloped him in a swell of unhappiness. He was an integral part of one of the biggest rock bands in the world, yet he felt as if he lost his passion, his spirit, his enjoyment, and it all became more acute in the last several months. Then there was his solo album he’d just released, therapeutic but also fun and creative in every way; it’d been so long since he could improvise in the studio so much, work with whomever he pleased, enjoy the power of writing his soul out. Simple pleasures, or so he thought.

  
The light breeze touched his cheek and he realized the window was still open. His daughter’s even breathing was the only sound in the room but it wasn’t a lullaby to his heart. It was in stark opposition to the hurricane that was rolling over in his head and the impassive spectacle in the sky couldn’t mute his swarming thoughts…

  
He was supposed to be back on the plane the following day, well-rested after the short break he’d just taken. But he couldn’t sleep at all. Tired of tossing and turning, he finally got up and went to the kitchen to make breakfast. Toasts, Ava’s favourite. A short call to her grandparents to ask how Heather was and arrange when and where they would pick Ava up. Gotta pack their stuff. Call Jon.

  
_Jon._

  
He sighed heavily. He didn’t feel like calling him at all.

  
And it wasn’t even about their last argument about the show he fucked up when he was late with the guitar solo. Or the argument before. Was it about Stephanie’s OD? Jon brushed it off but he couldn’t stop thinking about it for weeks. He knew the kid from the time she was born. She was the first baby he was holding in his arms. It wasn’t something anyone could predict. And it was fucking heroin! How could Jon go past it and simply keep fulfilling his never-ending agenda with another commitments?

  
It didn’t dull his own pain of being constantly in the shadow. They were brothers but he always had to take a step back. Because Jon was the Wonder Kid. The Sun. And he was the Moon, he only reflected the light. Not that he was whining about it, he agreed to get the band going at the very beginning. Jon made him feel important, too. He was his sidekick, his right arm, his consigliere. There were times he felt it was not enough, he was not good enough. All it took was Jon’s praise in the press, non-orchestrated moments on stage, a song on his own, big bear hugs at the end, so that he knew it was worth carrying on.

  
Bon Jovi was his life after all. He gave it all he had. It was his as it was Jon’s. He made sure every song they crafted together had his soul in it. Not that he cared for credits much. It wasn’t about whose name it was. He was Bon Jovi. With or without him.

*

And then he realized it was now or never. He packed his stuff into the car and made sure Ava had her belt fastened.

  
"We’re going home,” he said, trying to sound cheerful but the lump in his throat made his voice crack. He didn’t even have time to say farewell. It was way too late but he didn’t have a single regret. If there was a Guiding Star in his life, he was already at home. With all the scars and half-healed wounds. He knew. And if he had a chance, he would do it exactly the same way again. And it was all that mattered anyway.


End file.
